Schatten
by Myojo-s-me
Summary: Schuldig won't forget what they did to him. Never.


This is a story that is part of a much larger FF I am writing since... the spring of 2005(?) The story isn't in English, so I won't post it, but just imagine that it is a break from general Weiss and Schreient angstyness XD (as there are none of them in it °)

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They were walking up the street, arguing in a language few of the people crossing their way had ever heard. People in this part of the German countryside had barely ever left their town, nor hosted visitors from outside Europe. So they weren't really supposed to understand their words. That wasn't really the reason why they didn't use a language more common in this area, but it added to it. Much more important was that one of them disliked German and English was no option as it wasn't the mother tongue of either of them. Plus, the taller one disliked it for... now, kind of patriotic reasons.

One of them, a skinny, Asian boy of maybe 16 years, seemed to dislike the situation pretty much, as he made a sullen face, had his hands buried in the pockets of his trousers and stared at their surroundings in a mixture of dissatisfaction and a want to destroy it. Contrary to his companion, the other, a tall, well looking man in the middle of his twenties or so, looked as if he was enjoying their situation, in a way. Though he carried a bouquet like one uses for visiting a grave, he grinned while teasing the boy, obviously looking forward for the place they were going to go to.

"Why the hell are you coming here every single year? There's nothing up the hill there, no one. Just the rotten corpses of some stupid Germans. I really can't understand what you appreciate so much about talking to the dead." The boy sighed, kicked some stones and then continued his complaints. "And why is it always me who has to go with you. I pretty much dislike this damn country and, additionally, it's not really my favorite activity to be your babysitter, you know."

The taller one gazed at him lazily, a bright smile domineering his expression. "You are babysitting me? How come to that?"

"Not heard Crawford? 'It's too dangerous to go to Germany alone. Take Nagi with you, he'll have a look after you.' That's what he said. So I guess…"

"Oh Nagi, it's no babysitting at all. It's just that you are my body guard."

"As if you'd ever need-"

"Seems to." Out of random, the European began to whistle.

"What the hell is that?"

The taller one didn't answer, but sang along the lines he had whistled before. "Schwäne leuchtend weiß und schön. Sing, sing, was geschah, keiner ward mehr gesehen ja…" (1)

"And what does it mean?" The boy sounded annoyed. Annoyance was a common feature with him, so the orange haired didn't care. He did rarely ever care about other people, to be exact.

"Nothing to you, Nagi, nothing to you." They reached a low iron gate, and he stopped, his eyes roaming the graveyard "And now just wait. I'll be back."

"When?"

"No idea. Bye." He opened the gate.

"What the hell do you mean by 'Bye'? I won't wait here all the time until you condescend to return! Call me, when you're ready, understood?!"

The angry voice became the lower, the deeper he wandered into the graveyard. The sand under his feet was wet, having sucked up all the rain which had been falling in the morning. The sky was still gray, and because of the late autumn season, most of the trees already were bare of their leaves. The sky was covered with hastily drifting gray clouds, one could assume that it would rain soon. After some minutes he reached the grave he had wanted to visit and stopped some meters in front of it.

"Hey guys! Are all of you ok down there? Look, Maria, I've found you your beloved red- and- orange- flowers this year, even if I still have no idea, how they're called. Mum, your sunflowers are also here. They're especially big this time, the shopkeeper said it was a good year. And Dad… I've got a new kind of those only-green-flowers for you. I hope you're fine with them."

No answer. Of course. He stared at the epitaph. Three names were there, one name less than it should have been... or two less. Only a question of perspective. Or... he lowered his head. Three more than he'd wish to. They had been by five in his family…

…"Juli! Juli! Over here!" His sisters yelling leaded him towards a big tree. There she sat high above him and built something. "What's up? Is mum calling again?" She sounded unwilling. "Or why are you looking for me?"

He nodded. "It's mealtime, and it's getting dark, she said." He tried to see what she was doing. "You should come home, you know how she can become if we stay outside too long in the evening... And how she reacts if supposing that we are disrespectful towards her cooking us dinner every evening..."

The girl nodded slowly but didn't stop her doing. Then she recognized his looks and held a kite up. "It's a family-kite! Look, there's our whole family painted on it! Though not very well done, I am afraid." She loved their family. It was the most important thing in the world to her, and equally to him. Not only because they didn't know much else. Also because it provided so much support and safety to them. The would always come back if anything had happened and it would always protect them. In their sometimes hastily changing surroundings, it was the only constant thing, the only people they could rely on and be honest towards without endangering their bare existence.

He climbed the tree and settled down besides her. "Hey, that's cool! But", he stared at the picture of his mother, choosing his next words. "Mum ain't that slim. You know that." His looked at his sister.

"Yeah, I do. But it's her birthday, so… hey, it's a present!" She packed it in plastic bags and began to climb down. "It should be someway pleasing her, so it is ok to idealize a little bit! - You won't get me!" She grinned and began to run. They hurried over the meadows, trying to catch each other, laughing aloud…

It had been that day, that very day, when he had seen her for the last time. And not long after her vanishing, about half a year, to be exact, Rosencreutz had been kidnapping him. He still had no idea, if there was a relation between those two happenings. Sometimes, when something or someone reminded him of her, he still wondered if she was still living somewhere out there... or what she was doing, if she was...

…Maggie loved painting. She loved drawing, and she loved reading. She loved to wander trough wind or storm, especially when it was rainy or dark. And she loved to do that all alone, accompanied only be herself. It was a habit of her he had adapted years later, after having joined Schwarz and thus finally gaining the freedom to go wherever he liked. It was then, that he had come to understand her strong desire to do those dangerous walks. They calmed ones heart, and the strolling through natural surroundings hostile to humans gave him a feeling of selfreliance he wouldn't find anywhere else.

Like all the other days, she told him to say nothing to their parents, who had forbidden walking outside alone after dark, and jumped out of the window, for they shared a room on the first floor. In the beginning, when she began to go on her nightly walks, her brother had asked her not to do so, because mum and dad had forbidden it. But Maggie had only laughed, shaken her had and laid her arm around his shoulders in a gesture of prudence. "See, Juli, those may seem to be rules, but actually they aren't. Not rules, just guidelines. You have to know, the only rules you'll come across in your live that you really need to respect are the ones you've set yourself." How right she had been... Now, as a grown-up, he had come to believe this himself, seeing the stupid people around him who made most rules. And as he was strong enough to live this philosophy, he had the possibility to follow his own rules and to neglect all others.

Maggie had climbed out of the window, just like all the other times. But beginning from that, it had been different. Because she never came back…

…They lived outside of the village, some way up the mountain. Officially because mum liked nature so much, but in fact it was because of him. From birth he had been special, and his parents had feared that their youngest child wouldn't be able to grow up under normal circumstances, just as every other child. They wanted him to live his childhood just like everyone else. People tended to fear humans different to them, or to have an overwhelming interest into them. How correct they had been in their fears…

…It was night, and it was scary. He was all alone, lying in his bed and listening for any sound from downstairs. Usually, Maggie should have been back by now. She never was late, for she knew that her brother would be lying awake and waiting for her all the time. Wind whistled around the house, and he got the strange impression that there was the wind witch out there, wanting to tell him something. Maybe, he thought afterwards, maybe it had really been Frau Holle, who wanted to warn him, or maybe she had just come to laugh on him who wasted his time waiting for someone who would never come back, shortening his childhood every minute he stayed up and stared into the darkness...

...He knelt and weeded the grave. One year... He should come here more often. Every time he came the grave was covered with weed. Of course there was the possibility to pay someone who would take care of it; but it sounded like blasphemy to him. Not that he really cared about God; not that he cared about the Death too much; they all weren't here to do anything for or against him. But at least the latter ones had made him what he was... he still had no idea if he had to be grateful for it. But until he would find out the answer to this question, he would take care of the only thing that still postulated that they had been here.

(1) German folk song. The quoted lines say: "Migrated once five white swans, swans shining white and beautiful. Sing, Sing, what happened? Not a single one was ever seen again..."


End file.
